


HSWC Bonus Round 1: Fills

by DaughterOfTheWest



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Fill collection, HSWC 2013, Kismesis, M/M, morails, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 18:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterOfTheWest/pseuds/DaughterOfTheWest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My fills for the Homestuck World Cup bonus round #1! The theme was "quotes": a prompter posts a quote and a ship, and the fill must draw inspiration, directly or indirectly, from that quote. </p><p>Currently includes:<br/>Alpha!Dave <3< Dirk, Alpha!Dave <> Alpha!Rose, and John <3< Karkat</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alpha!Dave<3<Dirk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Alpha Dave <3 Dirk
> 
> "I am better than the worst thing I ever did." - Hen House ep, Cold Case
> 
> Prompted by DW user Fickle

theres a desalinator in the closet along with as much food as i can figure out how to keep edible for a few hundred years.

Dave pans the crappy 1980's handheld around to show off the gleaming stash he's prepared, and turns it back on himself to smirk in all of his grainy, positively antiquated glory. He's got access to the most advanced film equipment for his time. Equipment which, you might add, is still ancient compared to the tech that existed just before the shit hit the fan of the Crock-pocalypse, and rudimentary compared the stuff you have invented since. But it’s at least semi-watchable.

This, on the other hand, is the gratuitous slaughter of perfectly innocent film. This is cinematic genocide, this is not even ironically bad; even though as soon as that thought crosses your mind you feel like an idiot for not realizing that he probably intended to make you think that so as to reach an even higher, more esoteric tier of irony that just flew over your spiky little head higher than Snoop Dog and your brother getting together to have fucked up weedbrain babies, who subsequently become pilots for the “you’re too dumb to catch this” airline, who then get promoted to the level of spaceship captain on the USS “You are a dumbass, Dirk”, NCC-170-fuck-you.

Where were you? Oh yeah, your brother being a prick. Of course.

ive put swords in the fridge for you and left a collection of essential cultural viewings sitting by the xbox. my films are there. sos roses book. you keep in touch with her little hellspawn too, ok? her name is roxy.

You hate him. You hate him for being a rich douchebag, you hate him for being such a successful asshole who got famous for making completely legendary pieces of shit, you hate that he could even pull that crap off, and you hate it even more that you don’t actually think that they’re anything short of masterpieces. 

What you really hate is that you’re only a footnote in his heroic legend.

What you really hate is that you never got a chance to have him here.

The lines in his mouth tighten. You’ve watched this video so many times you can read the unreadable face of even this legendary, stoic asshole. He’s such a jerk, such a douchebag, such a fucking asinine--

im sorry, bro. i am.

You hate this part the most.

i cant do shit for you except leave behind an apartment full of crap and make this shitty movies to try and make up for being the worse fucking parent-sibling in all of history. so im sorry. i dont expect you to forgive me, whenever you are.

but i hope ive done enough to make up for it all. i love you, bro. goodbye.

You hate this part.

But he’s your brother, and you love him.


	2. Alpha!Dave <> Alpha! Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Alpha!Dave <> Alpha!Rose
> 
> "You and me were never meant to be part of the future."
> 
> Prompted by DW user "Fickle"

kid this is the last time im going to talk to you.

Dave is leaning against a wall inside some lush apartment in Los Angeles, half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels loosely twined between his fingers. His red suit is rumpled and his shades are slipping down his nose and Rose thinks she can see the glint of a tear at the corner of his eyes, but it can’t be. Rose steadies the camera on the contours of his face. His head lolls down and he runs a hand through already tousled hair, but picks himself back up again quickly, like his composure can be regained if he takes a swig.

i dont know you. not really. at the present moment youre nothing more than a fucking twinkle in an ectobiologists eye. but i imagine what youll be like. what kind of man youll be. rose gave me a little bit of an idea but every time i fucking ask for more information she just says ‘oh visions dont work that way’ and so im left in the fucking dark up shit creek without a match or a paddle or whatever the fuck.

Swig.

im not going to be around anymore, bro. im not. and im doing my best to do right by you, to try and make sure that the batterbitch fails in trying to get her genocide on by making sure that you and roses girl dont die. but to do that, weve gotta go. rose has been--

He drops his head into his hands and rubs at his eyes beneath the aviators, trying to hide the break in his voice. He does hide it, and hides it well, but Rose knows him too well not to read him like an open book. Dave Strider was never as impenetrable as his reputation suggested. Not for her.

\--fuck. rose has seen this coming for a long fucking time. hell, if you told me ten years ago id be martyring myself for some kid id tell you to fuck the hell off and get me a beer while youre at it. but time does shit, man. it changes everything. and itll change you like its changed me and itll change the fucking world.

He puts down the bottle and gently takes the camera from her hands, hoisting it closer to his face so their future-child can see the reflection of the blinking red recorder light mirrored in the black holes of those stupid fucking shades.

and times the thing thats robbing me of you, dude. so if i cant get to meet you then fuck the world, fuck time, and fuck condy. if im going to die then im going to die on my own fucking terms and take some juggalo bastards down with me. im going to die and im going to be a fucking hero while i do it. and-- and--

Dave.

He glances up and meets her eyes.

We need to burn the videos, drop them off, and get going. We don’t have much time.

Dave says nothing and turns off the camera, attempting to steel himself-- trying so hard to pull his heart closed once more and pretend this never happened; but it did happen, and Rose has cinematic proof. One day, Dirk and Roxy will have that proof, too.

Strider straps the sword and sheath to his back, pops out the tape, and turns to her.

okay.

He does not look “okay”. At this point in their relationship, Rose already has a practiced grace when she stands in front of him, gently unveils his face and folds his glasses into the neckline of her shirt without thinking twice. His eyes are always red, but now they’re sleepless and puffy and bloodshot, dripping with enough tears to make up for a lifetime without crying. Rose brings her face up to his. He leans into her. She hopes that this contact is enough to let him know all the things even _she_ cannot put into words.

I know, She kisses away the pit of dread taking root in his heart, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him close for what could be the last time.

I know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was also partially inspired by my obsession with Alpha Dave and Rose recording videos to teach Dirk and Roxy. I'm currently changing/editing this to make it a oneshot of its own that's a full-out thing, and not a short fill. :)


	3. John <3< Karkat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: John <3< Karkat
> 
> "Someday something's coming  
> From way out beyond the stars  
> To kill us while we stand here  
> It'll store our brains in mason jars"
> 
> -The Mountain Goats, Lovecraft in Brooklyn
> 
> Prompted by DW user Fferris

keep your hands where I can see them, space scum!

John levels his water-gun at the boy’s chest, trying to look intimidating over buck-teeth and glasses thick enough to bludgeon a small child with. The boy eyes him from beneath a mop of black hair. John holds his ground and thinks of Nic Cage, while the other boy slowly lifts his hands to show that he is unarmed.

WHAT THE FARTSNIFFING FRICK ARE YOU DOING, FOUR-EYES?

John pouts and lowers his weapon, don’t call me that you big meanie! you’re the fartsniffer here, trollkid!

WELL IF I’M A FART-SNIFFER, YOU’RE A POOP-MUNCHER!

nuh-uh!

YUH-HUH!

nuh-uh times a million!

YUH-HUH TIMES INFINITY!

well you’re still a troll-kid!

The boy with the curly hair frowns and folds his arms tight over his chest, glaring daggers and debating whether or not to admit he has no idea what that crazy glasses-wearing meanie is going on about.

WHAT THE H-E-DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS IS A “TROLL-KID”?

As if he doesn’t know! 

trolls are these aliens from outer space who come down to earth to force us to eat lots and lots of yucky cakes and scoop out our brains and put them in jars and take us back to their home planet to be slaves to their crazy fish-lady queen!!! duh!

The boy looks indignant as a six-year-old can manage to look.

WELL... WHATEVER THAT IS, I’M NOT!

we’re playing space aliens and astronauts, so you’re the alien and i’m the astronaut like the guy from Armageddon!

THAT MOVIE SUCKS!

does not!

DOES TOO!

does not!

DOES TOO!

what’s your name?

The boy pauses his shouting and shoves his hands in his pockets.

KARKAT. WHAT’S YOURS?

He can’t resist. John strikes a man-of-mystery pose with the water gun and tries to remove his glasses dramatically: egbert! john egbert! Unfortunately, the James Bond move does not go as planned, and John ends up with a poked eye and his face in his hands. owww, that hurt!

John waits for the laughter, bracing himself like he always does against bullies who pull his hair and take his glasses and steal his lunch money. The laughter never comes.

ARE YOU OKAY?

Karkat is standing over him, grabbing at his arm and tugging it away so he can see the damage. John obliges, blushing with embarassment.

YOU’RE FINE, DUMMY. HERE. In his hands are the thick black frames extended in offering. John looks up with squinty eyes, finding the blur and clearing his vision to see the honest concern on Karkat’s face.

uh, thanks!

Karkat shrugs and smirks, and before John can realize what’s happening he darts down to grab the now-freed water gun laying on the ground at John’s feet.

A spray of water washes over his face.

GOTCHA, PUNY HUMAN!

It takes a moment to process what’s going on, but when he does John can’t fight the toothy grin slathered across his face. 

i’m coming for you, alien monster guy!!! 

Karkat is laughing and running and John sprints after him down the sidewalk and through the Lalonde’s yard, grabbing a garden hose and enjoying the first great waterfight he’s had in a very long time.


End file.
